At Peace
by Inari Kasugawa
Summary: Lithuania is free, but the scars of bondage, both physical and mental still mar his body. Poland mends his heart. This is where healing starts. Uses human names.Warnings for attempted suicide.


At Peace

It was difficult being so far from him all the time, where he couldn't protect him. It was worse watching him fall into that black pit of despair that he attempted to smile through.

'Stupid Liet… Stop smiling when you're hurt…'

He wasn't able to see him up close for so long, but he heard rumors. The silence his old friend conducted himself with, the fire that had died in his heart, frozen over by Soviet cold. The scared murmuring of Eduard and Raivis that reached his ears about Liet's health getting bad, about him losing weight, sleeping too much or wandering freezing halls until the sun returned in the east, mocking the inhabitance of Ivan's house with the false promise of warmth.

He knew his friend was growing cold, far, far too cold. His calls didn't make it past the breakers anymore. He couldn't call to make sure that Liet was still Liet.

'Doesn't _he _hurt you enough? Why would you…'

He hasn't seen it himself. But the words of worry spread like disease to his ears, to his heart.

Liet is hurting himself. He can't die, but his people feel the pain of occupation. And death is their only release.

Feliks sees it in the few glimpses he manages to catch of his friend. Ivan has closed all boarders.

He wouldn't see his friend again until 1990.

Of course he would remember it. The entire world was on end at the decade's herald. The world, in this year, seemed to be picking up pace, and the Soviet Union was crumbling. There was a semblance of peace underneath the chaos in Europe. The gears of change were turning faster than they had in a while.

He remembered hearing about how brave Liet was, how he looked like the weary but victorious solder returning from war. Feliks knew better though. All of Liet's fight had been used up just to declare independence. He was an animated shell of himself.

'Oh… Liet… What happened to you?'

Feliks saw that Liet didn't raise his arms, that he wore a high collar obscuring his neck.

'So then…'

He rushed through the crowd to reach the man who, almost gratefully, took up to walking at a slow, familiar pace with his friend.

"Feliks… It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Liet smiled, but Feliks saw that the light was gone. It was an automatic response to _'Toris did well'_.

Feliks had to swallow his panic. He knew that the rumors that had spread were truths. Navigating through the crowd of well wishers and cheering, rejoicing peoples and nations, Feliks began steering back to his house; quiet with everyone out reveling.

Once in his room, Feliks gave Liet seat in his plush chair, the later whom declined to remove his coat. Feliks took seat at the foot of his bed.

"So, like, how's freedom finally feel buddy? It's totally everything you remember, right? Especially cause there's so much stuff to play with!"

"Yeah. It's great Feliks."

There it was. Liet didn't look at him while he spoke. His head hung slightly, a small slump marred his once perfect posture.

Feliks didn't realize that he was kneeled before his old friend until Liet spoke, bewildered.

"What are you doing Feliks?"

He took his friend's hands in his own and looked down at them. They had been once so strong looking, but in whole, almost all of Liet looked smaller these days. Feliks couldn't stop himself from pushing up the sleeve, nor could he suppress the gasp of horror when he saw the myriad of criss-crossed scars, some with additional scars from stitches that had to be used to hold his friend together. Some looked remarkably fresh.

Liet snatched his hands away as though Feliks had burned him, panic on his face. Feliks stood up then and leaned over the other man and drew down the collar. Around Lithuania's necks were other scars; cuts and bruises of varying severity. One bruise went completely around his neck.

Feliks felt hopeless, and if he felt bad, he didn't think he could _imagine_ Liet's hurt. He still couldn't keep his bottom lip from trembling; he couldn't stop himself from thinking _why couldn't he tell me?_ While tears pricked his eyes, Liet looked away, a look of disgust on his face, a look that Feliks knew he aimed at himself. Liet never placed blame wrongly.

"You see what's happened? First it was to avoid punishment, you know?" He chuckled mirthlessly, a bitter taste to his words. "But then, well, Ivan just didn't care anymore. If he was stressed, he beat me. If he was angry, he aimed it at me. The whole time I thought _better me than Eduard or Raivis_, right? B-but…" His voice cracked. "My people couldn't handle it."

Feliks was aware that at the beginning of occupation, suicide had gone up among Liet's people, but… now they were free…

'He has fresh wounds too though…'

"I know what you're thinking. I'm free now, and I've known for a while I would be. So why was I still hurting myself? Just because I'm free now, Feliks, it doesn't mean the stress is gone. I still feel that fear. Even if it is just something little, I still feel overwhelmed to the point where I just wish a bullet to the head would put me out of all of this. My people, Feliks, _my people_, they still feel that old fear, it's in their blood now… to… to sleep." He let out a whimper of pain and clutched at his chest. He was sobbing by the time that he was in Feliks' arms; his shoulder's heaving as he unloaded years of pain and stress and loneliness to the only person who he knew had always been there, even at his most irresponsible times.

"I… I'm so sorry Liet. This is like, totally my fault too—"

"No! Never!" Liet stood up abruptly, his eyes were red from crying but his eyes were alight. "Y-you were dealing with Germany and war damages… you… you couldn't have done anything against Ivan."

"I can do something now."

Feliks tipped Liet onto the bed and laid himself beside him, removing the offending coat. Feliks wrapped his arms around his friends' shoulders. Liet also wound his arms around his friend, burying his face in Feliks' chest and desperately clinging to him as all of his sorrow struck him full force. He cried, finally able to voice all of the feelings he had hidden so far back in his mind; all of the things that he thought would make himself despicable towards others he told to Feliks who all the while softly stroked brown locks of hair, tutting that everything was fine now, that it didn't matter because it was all over, that it could never and would never happen again. He reassured Liet that he was not dirty, no less than anyone else in the world. That he was not and never would be Ivan.

"If you believe that, then kiss me, Feliks."

He didn't even hesitate to gently tilt Liet's chin up and softly cover his lips with his own. Liet's lips were wind chapped but Feliks didn't care, he had Liet back with him and to him, the past time apart no longer existed. They were young and without pain, lover's who needed not to search each other out to heal wounds, but would reach out in place of words, because once they hadn't needed words to say "I love you".

Liet shifted himself up until he was level with Feliks, and then Feliks felt himself rolled onto his back.

"Liet, do you--?"

"For so long, I've wanted nothing but to hold you again."

In his position below the other man, Liet's face was obscured by a curtain of hair. Feliks gently brushed it back and drew Liet into another kiss.

When Liet's shirt came off, Feliks was able to see the full extent of the damage wrought by Ivan, and Liet himself. Scars, old, had raised scars on the man's back, the back over which Feliks' fingers ran so softly. The scars on his arms though, were another matter. They were more concentrated on his left arm, though they were startlingly deeper on the left. Feliks motioned for the other to sit as he climbed on his lap. Feliks kissed Liet's neck, his soft lips grazing over every painful blemish, erasing their hurt with patient, loving kisses. He repeated the gesture over the scars on Liet's arms, the painful level of tenderness brought a lump into Liet's throat. He swallowed it back and brought Feliks' mouth back to his own. It was a much more heated kiss than the last, tongues not sparing an centimeter on the other, each desperate to have more of the person they had thought they had lost to the world. They wasted no time ridding each other of their remaining clothing, their clothes heaping together much as their bodies followed suit. Limbs did not tangle, but knew their places as does the foot of a trained dancer know its step. Feliks' soft hands stroked Liet's face, hips ground together. Liet's hand stroked both of their members together; pulling groans and moans from the two men.

Feliks bucked into Liet's hand, gasping, and the familiar touch was something he had missed so long. Feliks tangled his hands in Liet hair and pulled him down into another crushing kiss, the two not separating; even while taking breath their tongues did not abandon the other, as though their feared breaking any new connection.

"Ah, Feliks! I love you!"

"Hnn, Liet… I-Ah!"

Feliks' orgasm took him hard, Liet following. When they were able to catch their breath they tangled with each other, not caring where one's arm was so long as they touched.

"I love you too, Liet."

They lay side by side, their chests still rising roughly. Liet brushed some of Feliks' hair from his face and discovered a large red mark on Poland's neck. He ran a finger lovingly over the hickey.

"Hey Liet. This is like, total proof that the next forever is going to like, be the best, you know that?"

Liet chucked and the sound startled him. He hadn't had much use for a laugh in so long.

"Yeah. If you say so, I can believe it."

**ASDFGHJKL I feel nauseous! I shouldn't stay up so long; it makes me feel sick and gives me headaches. I wrote this story after reading that Lithuania has the highest suicide rate in the world. So it was my thought that, as it a current statement, it was mentally hereditary. Figure that Lithuanian's at the beginning of occupation would have been depressed, angry and desperate to escape. It wouldn't be so far-fetched to think that because suicide was so prevailing that it also became a common thing. As it became common, it became, while not acceptable, the first thing that came to mind when under large amounts of stress. Either way, after reading it, I needed to write a fic to comfort Lithuania, because for anyone who has been pushed so far as to contemplate death as an answer, having someone who will be so solid for you is a heaven sent grace. I struggled with such thoughts myself at one point, so this one kind of hit home for me too. Remember, if you are ever thinking that death is the only answer, it isn't. No one can promise instant happiness, it's just something we all have to work at. We are all human, and that is all we need to be. **


End file.
